


take you to heaven (and i'll show you all around it)

by mattels



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: Cafe AU, F/F, Lesbian AU, Rosenali, and denali can't pick a name for her coffee, background crygi, i jus love rosenali ok, just biological women being biological women, like rose works in a cafe, lots of queens mentioned, smut maybe shh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29601828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattels/pseuds/mattels
Summary: rosé is sure the woman who orders coffee under a different name every morning is trying to fuck with her (not, as jan put it, trying to fuck her.)
Relationships: Denali Foxx/Rosé
Comments: 46
Kudos: 153





	1. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't written anything here in a hot min but i love these girlies so here this is ! (in all it's unbeta-ed glory <3)  
> title from kesly karter's 'harry'

It’s a Monday and Rosé feels like death.

She’s sure she looks it too, if she’s being honest. She woke up early-- like _five-o’clock-sky-still-dark early_ \-- nursing a spectacular hangover and then promptly rolled out of bed to throw up in her and Lagoona’s shared bathroom. She has a killer bruise on her shin from God knows what last night, and her head is still fucking killing her despite the off-brand Advil Crystal had handed her, whilst pretending she wasn’t laughing at her state.

 _Don’t let Lagoona convince you to go out on a Sunday_ , she thinks to herself, rubbing her under eyes to find pieces of glitter stubbornly clinging to her skin.

“Are you okay, hun?” Gigi asks her when she arrives at her job in their seemingly perpetually-empty café, arranging delicate cakes in the fluorescently lit pastry case.

Rosé groans slightly in response, lowering her forehead to rest on the cool metal of the cash register.

Gigi laughs, “and remind me again _why_ you decided clubbing on a Sunday was okay…?”

“Fucking ‘Goona.”

She barks another laugh at this, reaching behind her for a pile of croissants Jackie had baked earlier. “Getting old?”

Rosé lifts her head to glare at Gigi, who, of _fucking_ course, looks perfect as ever. Her ginger hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail, bangs neatly straightened into uniformity. Gigi is easily one of the prettiest girls Rosé’s ever seen, even in their decidedly unfashionable company-branded aprons. She only works at the café part-time, spending the rest of it at one of the best fashion schools in the city; her designs are always executed with excruciatingly minute details, Rosé knows she wouldn't have the patience for.

“We open in ten, girls!” Jaida calls from the back, where she counts inventory with Jackie on her heels, writing everything down neatly in a notebook.

“Geege, are you nearly done?” Crystal, who’s wiping down tables at the front with disinfectant, asks. “Can you help me with chairs?” She asks when Gigi responds with an affirmative.

Gigi wanders around to the front of the shop, planting a chaste kiss on Crystal’s cheek when she passes her to grab the chairs stacked in the back. Rosé mimes stuffing her fingers down her throat with an exaggerated gag to Jan, who’s refilling bottles of flavoured syrup behind the espresso machine.

“Fucking _ew_ ,” Jan says rolling her eyes in mock-disgust to Rosé. “You hear that guys?” She says loudly, and Gigi and Crystal both turn to look at her, “your love is fucking disgusting.”

Crystal laughs loudly, tipping her head back so Rosé can see into her mouth. “Okay _homophobe_ , whatever you say.”

Jan rolls her eyes, flipping the pair of girls off, who both laugh lightly. “First of all, Crystal Elizabeth, I’ve slept with more women than you have fingers, so fuck off, thank you _very_ much.”

Crystal coughs loudly, which sounds suspiciously like _dry spell_ , leaning over to Gigi and planting a kiss ending with a resonant _smack_ , snickering when Gigi blows an equally obnoxious kiss in Jan and Rosé’s direction.

“This is a workplace, sluts!” Rosé sighs, “if I have to clean ass prints off those tables one more fucking time, I’m sending HR a very strongly worded email!”

Crystal roars with laughter at a red-faced Gigi, who ducks her head and tries to bury herself into Crystal’s shoulder. “It was one time!” She squeaks.

“And that’s one time too many,” Jan says with a pointed look at Crystal, who gives her a shit-eating grin in return.

Crystal holds her hands up in mock-surrender, “sorry mom.” 

Rosé cracks a smile at Jan’s outraged face, busying herself with filling a plastic cup with tap water to avoid being on the end of Crystal’s razor sharp tongue. Her head throbs as she downs the liquid, filling it up again as she swallows.

She checks the time on her phone, cursing under her breath when she realises they open in two minutes. Already she can see a woman standing outside their glass doors, clearly waiting for Jaida to flip their sign to _Open_.

“Opening up!” Jaida calls, coming out of their back storage room to open their door. 

Rosé shoots Jan a look that screams _help me I’m going to kill myself_ , to which Jan chuckles, moving over so Gigi can dart behind the bar and work their espresso machine.

The woman walks in, bell tinkling as the door pushes open, a pair of dark sunglasses obscuring her features. Rosé plasters on her best _I’m approachable, please give me a tip!_ smile, flashing her perfectly straight teeth, (thank you, several years of braces).

The woman doesn’t stop to look at their neatly displayed array of pastries, instead parking herself straight in front of Rosé.

“Hiya, what can I get for you?”

The woman flips her glasses so they perch on the top of her head, and Rosé feels like she’s taken a punch to her stomach. 

She’s unbelievably beautiful, even with slightly messy eyeliner and already smudged lipgloss. Her icy blonde hair is french braided loosely, and is curved over one shoulder. When she politely smiles at Rosé, twin dimples are embedded into her tan cheeks.

“Good morning,” she says with a smile. “Could I get a medium americano to go, please?”

Rosé can’t stop her nose from wrinkling at the thought of black coffee. _Ew_ , she thinks to herself, grabbing a takeaway cup from the stack to her left.

“What? Not good?” The woman cocks a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her. 

Rosé looks up at her, in surprise. “Huh? Oh, shit, no, no, I just--”

“--Oh no, you’re good honey, I’m only joking!”

Rosé can feel the tips of her ears burning red at the pet name, a tiny thrill running up her spine. “Can I get a name?”

“Julie,” she says with another smile, the dimples in her cheeks making Rosé’s palms slightly clammy, as she grips the thick marker to write the name in her loopy handwriting.

The woman pays, thanking Rosé and going to stand by the pick-up point to wait for the drink Gigi makes way too quickly, leaving before Rosé can snap out of her daze.

“Julie,” she murmurs under her breath when their door swings shut.

Jan turns to her with a grin, “alright there Rosie? Looking a little flushed, doll.”

Rosé rolls her eyes, pulling her phone out of her pocket, opening the camera to use as a mirror. Her stomach drops; she looks just as bad as she feels, she realises with a loud groan.

“Are you kidding me?” She groans to Jan, “I just met the hottest woman I’ve ever seen, and I look like _this_?”

Jan shrugs, leaning against the counter behind her. “You went about as pink as your hair too, so…”

“Fucks sake.” She swears, running her fingers through her greasy pink roots. She’d sprayed dry shampoo in it this morning, when she couldn’t be bothered with washing and blow-drying it, but clearly it hadn’t much helped the situation.

She stares at her image in the camera, trying to wipe the already-flaking mascara from her lower lash line. _It could be worse_ , she thinks to herself, at least she didn’t try and blend out last-night’s makeup again. 

“Babe, I think that’s not gonna help.” Gigi says, watching as she tries to fix her appearance. 

“Shove off, little miss perfect,” Rosé all but growls, irritation running high. Her head is still pounding, despite being momentarily distracted by the pretty woman.

Gigi pretends to busy herself, dusting non-existent coffee grounds from her pristine work surface. She’s smart, Rosé begrudgingly admits, knows when not to push it. The same, however, can’t be said for Jan, who’s already texting Jan about it on their _Stephanie’s Child_ groupchat.

 **_goona:_ ** _bahaha sorry rosie <3 _

**_goona:_ ** _defo my fault shouldn’t have dragged u out last night babes_

“Can you not?” She whines at Jan, “this is _so_ embarrassing!”

Jan shrugs, “it’s _so_ funny though.” She teases, mimicking Rosé’s drawn out inflections. “It’s _fine_ , Rosie, she’s bound to come back at some point.”

“ _Will_ she?”

Jan stands, leaning over Rosé to pick up their tip-jar just in front of the register. “She left a nice tip.” She says, pulling out the ten dollar bill. “That’s pretty hefty for a three dollar coffee,” she notes, putting the jar back down. “Must be for our impeccable service.” She says, flashing a teasing grin at Rosé, who groans again, dropping her head in embarrassment.

☆☆☆☆☆

Rosé can’t pretend she isn’t a little surprised when the woman appears again at the same time the next morning. 

Jan nudges her in the ribs as she walks in, laughing a little at Rosé’s whisper to _fuck off, please and thank you_. But she says it with a smile, happily remembering how even her winged liner came out this morning, and makes sure to smooth any fly-aways from her curled ponytail.

She’s sure to give her the best smile she can muster for seven in the morning, butterflies happily swarming in her stomach, as the woman approaches her.

“Hiya,” she says, pretending not to have remembered her from the day before.

Her hair is down today, falling prettily in soft waves around her face. “Good morning,” she smiles; it’s all white teeth and dimples. “Could I get a medium americano to go?”

Rosé nods, grabbing a medium cup, “can I get a name?” She asks, despite already writing Julie on the cup.

“Naomi,” she says.

Rosé’s brow furrows slightly in confusion, staring at the cup she’s already written on. “Naomi?” She cocks an eyebrow, waiting for the woman to correct herself.

She nods, “N-A-O-M-I.” 

She reaches for another cup, writing Naomi on it, instead of the expected Julie. The woman pays with a smile, and Rosé is still too confused to notice the wad of dollar notes she slides into their tip jar.

Gigi makes the coffee, what feels like much too quickly again, and Rosé finds herself watching the door shut after the woman.

“I thought you said her name was Julie?” Jan asks when she leaves.

☆☆☆☆☆

By the end of the third week, Rosé’s figured it out. It was, in large part, thanks to Jan, rolling her eyes and telling Rosé how it was _oh so clearly a game, Rosie_ , followed by both Crystal and Gigi’s insistence that _she’s flirting with you!_

She’s cycled through Kristen and Tracy and Laura and Rebecca and Violet, introducing herself as a new person every morning. Rosé started having a medium cup at the ready every morning, marker poised to scrawl whatever name she picks for the day.

"So,” Gigi says in the late afternoon, leaning her head against Rosé’s shoulder. “When are you gonna ask her?”

Rosé turns her head to look at her, “ask her what?”

Jan, who’s cleaning their blender, sighs loudly, putting her cloth into the sink and looks over at them. “Her name, dipshit.”

Rosé shrugs noncommittally, “I like our dynamic.” She lies. She doesn’t want to admit how flustered she makes her-- the butterflies at the pit of her stomach have only seemed to multiply, taking flight even at the mere thought of her bleached hair. 

Rosé never considered herself to be anything less than straightforward; she’s never had any sort of problem coaxing pretty women in bars to come home with her, and she’s _definitely_ never had any trouble telling them exactly how to curl their fingers inside her to make her see stars. But _The Woman_ , as they’ve dubbed her with a capital _T_ and _W_ , makes Rosé feel like she’s a middle-schooler, desperately trying to hide her first crush from everyone.

“I’m just saying maybe you could… y’know…” Gigi starts.

“I could what?”

“Get some pussy?” Jan suggests with a laugh, “Lagoona says it’s been a while.”

Rosé blushes high in her cheeks, “Lagoona doesn’t know shit.” She lies again, thinking back to the last girl she brought back with her seemingly months ago.

Jan arches an eyebrow at her, but doesn’t say anything, choosing to turn back to her sink instead. 

“How’s school?” Rosé asks Gigi, trying to casually change the subject whilst opening their register and grabbing a sticky note to note down their cash.

Gigi starts a long spiralling story about her midterms and the designs she’s trying to get Crystal to model for her, interjecting her speech with explanations of her school’s system of grading, coupled with descriptions of their intense assignments. It makes Rosé’s head spin, and for once she’s glad to have finished at her theatre school a handful of years ago.

Somewhere during Gigi’s tirade, the bell at the door goes off, welcoming in a new customer, unbeknownst to Rosé, until someone is awkwardly clearing their throat in front of them.

“Hi, sorry, how can I--” She stops mid sentence when she realises it’s her. “Oh, it’s you,” she says with a laugh that’s much too breathy. _Calm down_ , she tells herself in an attempt to stop her palms from sweating.

“It’s me,” The Woman says with a smile. 

“You’re not usually-- erm, it’s, uh, afternoon, and you’re usually, uh, y’know, morning.”

“Yeah,” she laughs, “I know. I just, er… wanted a coffee.”

“So, uh, what can I get for you?” She asks, already reaching for the medium takeaway cup.

“Can I get an americano? Having here?”

“Oh,” Rosé puts back the takeaway cup, “yeah of course. Can I get a name?”

She smiles, and Rosé wants to drown in her dimples, “Karen.”

Rosé snorts as she plugs in the name on the order, “Karen huh?”

The Woman gasps loudly in a mock-protest, placing a delicate hand over her chest in disbelief. “You don’t think I could be a Karen?”

Rosé grins, letting her eyes pass over her once. No fucking way was she a Karen of any sort. “ _So_ sorry ma’am, let me grab my manager for you,” she says with her eyes twinkling, beginning to turn around in an act of looking for Jaida.

“Denali.” 

She spins back around on her heels, eyebrows raised quizzically. “Sorry?” 

“That’s my name,” The Woman smiles softly,, “Denali.”

“Denali? Like the mountain?”

“Like the mountain.” She looks at Rosé, “why don’t you ever wear one of those, uh, nametags?” Rosé looks down at her apron with a shrug. “Y’know,” Denali continues, with a shy smile, “so I’d know the name of the pretty girl who takes my shitty coffee order every morning.”

Rosé’s face burns red-- she can practically feel it radiating heat. _Pretty girl_. It reverberates around in her skull, making her feel a little dizzy for a second. “Rosé.” She stammers out, waiting a beat too long to reply. “It’s Rosé.”

“Like the wine?”

"Like the wine.” She confirms with a smile, her face still as pink as her bubblegum hair.

“Two dollars right?” Rosé looks at her dumbly, “like, erm, for the coffee?”

“It’s on the house!” Jan says over her shoulder, shooting a shit-eating in Rosé’s direction.

“Oh! Uh, are you sure?”

Rosé nods awkwardly, and Denali responds with a _thank you so much_ , before wandering off to find a seat in the fairly empty café.

 _Denali_. Rosé lets herself roll around the sound in her mouth for a second like it’s a caramel. _Denahlee_ , she thinks to herself, stretching each syllable like taffy. She thinks it might be the sweetest sound she’s heard in a while. If she leans forwards, she can see her ( _Denali_ , she thinks to herself, _Denali_ ) sitting up on their bar that faces the window, a book held open in front of her.

Jan sidles up to her side with a knowing smile. “You’re welcome Rosie.”

“For giving her a free coffee so we get no commission?” Rosé jokes, trying to play it cool even though her heart is still beating like she’s just run a marathon.

“She _clearly_ came in to see you, dumbass,” Jan says with a smile, watching Gigi click the grounds-filled portafilter into the basket.

“She told you her real name!” Gigi adds as they wait for the espresso shot to fill. “That’s, like, _something_ , y’know.”

“She called you pretty!” Crystal reminds her from the pastry case she’s doing a half-hearted job of rearranging. 

Rosé sighs, “okay guys, I really don’t need this whole peanut-gallery thing-- can you _please_ get your big noses out of my life.” 

“Oh puh-lease, not a chance diva!” Jan says, already typing furiously on her phone.

Rosé feels her own phone buzz in her pocket, pulling it out to read the handful of texts Jan’s already sent to Jan through their groupchat. She groans at Jan, who gives her a nonchalant shrug in response.

“Do you want to take it to her?” Gigi asks as she pushes the steaming coffee mug towards her. 

“Please just fucking take it to her, Rosie.” Jan whines. “Let me live vicariously through your love life!”

Rosé laughs, rolling her eyes as she picks up the saucer the mug is on, careful not to touch the hot ceramic. She walks it over to Denali, putting it down in front of her with a smile. Denali thanks her with a grin, turning back to her book and letting Rosé sulk back to her job, trying to come up with witty conversation starters in her head.

☆☆☆☆☆

Denali sits in the café for a half hour before she gets up again to order another americano from Rosé.

“Can I get one of those little cake things too?” She asks, pointing at a miniature cake Jackie had neatly piped pink rosettes onto. Crystal pulls it out of the case onto a plate for Rosé to pass to her. “How much?” She says pulling out a wallet from her bag.

“On the house,” Rosé says, offering her a smile.

“No, c’mon, you have to let me pay for something--”

“--It’s fine, it’s _on the house_ \--”

“--I feel like I have to give you something,” she opens her wallet, “please?”

“You could give her your number,” Jan pipes up from the back with a laugh.

Rosé doesn’t believe in God, but if she did, right now would be just the time to pray for the ground beneath her feet to split open and swallow her up. _Please God, just take me._

“Do you have a napkin?” Denali asks, snapping Rosé out of her momentary prayer. “And, like, a pen?” When Rosé doesn’t move to get one, Denali gives her a look that Rosé is sure is asking her if she’s hard of hearing. “For, uh, my number…?” She trails off, looking a little embarrassed.

Rosé’s mouth goes completely dry, and her hands reach for a napkin and a pen on their own accord. Before she knows it, Denali’s handing it back to her, a phone number written on it in chicken-scratch handwriting.

“Maybe you could take me out sometime?” She says with a laugh bubbling in the back of her throat, throwing Rosé a playful wink. “Thanks for the coffee, gorge.”

Rosé’s heart _whiz-bangs_ in her chest, and she’s sure she’s gone to heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading the first part !!  
> when u guys leave comments and kudos and bookmarks it makes my entire day (read: year) <3  
> come chat with me on tumblr @ mattelography ! (especially if you fancy beta-ing the next part lol)
> 
> stay safe lovelies x


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for all your support on the last part <3  
> there's some heavy smut near the end of this so be careful !

In the week following, Rosé drafts out at least a hundred texts to Denali. _Hi!_ \-- like an overexcited preteen--, _Heyyyy_ \-- like she’s drunk in some sleazy bar--, _Hello_ \-- like a weird business meeting, _Good evening_ \-- what the fuck? Is she _Dexter_ ?. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

She eventually decides on an awkwardly mediocre _Hiya_ , closing her eyes and holding her breath when she presses the send button before she can overthink it again. She holds the phone close to her chest as she paces around her apartment’s tiny kitchen, heart pounding every time it buzzes.

“You gotta calm down, doll.” Jan says from the counter where she’s perched, spooning sugary cereal into her mouth. Despite Jan sharing a significantly nicer apartment with their mutual friend Brita, she seems to perpetually be at Rosé and Lagoona’s, wrecking general havoc and eating Rosé’s favourite cereals and the nice Icelandic yogurts she keeps as a special treat in the back of their fridge, despite her numerous reminders that she’ll _be paying for that, fucking whore._

“She’ll text you when she texts you!” Lagoona adds, brushing her teeth in their closet-sized bathroom between their rooms, the door open so she can pile on to the Harrass-Rosé-About-Her-Non-Existent-Love-Life Club.

“It’s been like,” Rosé checks the time stamp on the message she sent, “half an hour-- what if I have the wrong number or something, y’know, like if she gave me a fake--”

“--don’t fucking finish that sentence McCorkell!” Lagoona shouts.

“I don’t know,” Rosé whines, “what if she, like, felt pressured to give me a number, but she didn’t really want to, and--”

“--I’m fucking warning you Rosie, stop overthinking this shit! She’s _so_ clearly into you, my love.”

Rosé lets out a loud groan, putting her phone face down on the counter so she’ll stop thinking about it. “I’m dying over here ‘Goona, why won’t she text me back?”

“Maybe she has an actual job, y’know, one that isn’t working at a _café,_ ” Jan shrugs, laughing as Rosé playfully slaps her arm.

“You work there too, dumbass.” She says with an eye roll, opening her mouth and making grabbing motions at Jan’s bowl.

“Just give her a min, gorge.” Jan slides a spoonful of the cereal into Rosé’s awaiting mouth, giggling when milk dribbles down her chin. “Okay five year-old,” she reaches behind her for a wad of kitchen roll, letting Rosé wipe the residue off of her face.

Lagoona walks out of the bathroom, slinging a comforting arm around Rosé’s waist. They stand with the side of their hips bumping together. “Rosé’s finally gonna get some pussy!” She says in a sing-songy voice, laughing at Rosé trying to shove her away.

“Don’t jinx it!” She yells, motioning for Jan to move up on the counter so they can sit side by side.

“You’re such a moron,” Jan says with a smile, “please be quiet when you let her eat you out!”

“You don’t even live here!”

“Okay… _and?_ ”

“ _And_ you can’t tell me what to do in my own house!”

“Aw, someone’s grumpy.” Jan pulls her face into an exaggerated pout, “does lickle Rosé need a nap?” She prods Rosé in the ribs in an attempt to make her squirm.

“Fuck off,” she says with no real malice. Her and Jan are all bark, no bite.

“Should I sleep over at Jan and Brita’s tonight?” Lagoona asks with a smirk.

“Fuck _off._ ”

“That’s a yes, babe.” Jan places her bowl in Rosé’s lap, jumping down to snake an arm around Lagoona’s shoulders, knocking their heads together in the process. “Sleepover!”

Rosé tips up the bowl to her lips, loudly slurping down the residual sugary milk. Her phone buzzes on the counter and she nearly shatters the ceramic when she slams the bowl down to grab it. Lagoona and Jan make it there before her, snatching the device and huddling in to check.

“Let me see! It’s _my_ phone!” Rosé tries to seize it out of their hands to little avail.

“She texted!” Jan yells with a grin, holding the phone above Rosé’s head, who triumphantly takes it, pulling it close to her chest.

**_(646) 867-5309:_ ** _rose? i hope?_

 **_(646) 867-5309:_ ** _if you’re an axe murderer please lose this number_

 **_(646) 867-5309:_ ** _i have very little will to live it’s not worth it i swear!!_

Rosé lets out a breathy laugh, her cheeks turning pink. _Denali is funny_ , she realises, funny _and_ beautiful-- a whole package deal, really.

“Let me see!” Jan wails, trying to jump up and down to take the phone out of the taller girl’s hand. Rosé passes it to her and Lagoona, still smiling ear to ear.

Jan lets out a squeal, like the overgrown toddler she is, clutching the phone so tightly Rosé isn’t confident it won’t bend in half shatter the screen.

“Bitch you never said she was funny!” Lagoona takes the phone from Jan’s grip, passing it back to Rosé who takes it with an even bigger smile.

“Only the best for our Rosie!” Jan says with a laugh. “Text her back, whore!”

Rosé rolls her eyes, deciding to forgo the customary two minute wait as she types out a message, Jan and Lagoona each watching over a shoulder.

**_Rosé:_ ** _First of all, it’s Rosé_

 **_Rosé:_ ** _Notice the accent on the e_

 **_Rosé:_ ** _Second of all, I could still very well be an axe murderer, I’m a capable woman!_

“Tack on the peach emoji and the water droplet emoji on the end,” Jan says with a grin, “maybe the tongue too?”

Lagoona playfully tuts at her, “leave the poor girl alone Jannie,” she turns to Rosé, “at least send a tongue emoji?” 

She laughs loudly when Rosé bats her off her shoulder, with a grumbled “Fuck off, Lagoona.”

Denali messages her back as Rosé washes Jan’s cereal bowl, leaving it on their rack by the window, looking out to an overcast sky littered with heavy grey clouds.

**_denali:_ ** _so sorry rosé_

 **_denali:_ ** _that’s such a pain to type, god_

 **_denali:_ ** _good thing you’re worth it gorge ;)_

 **_denali:_ ** _too cheesy? lol_

Rosé’s heart hammers in her chest; she’s sure it’s growing its own pearly white wings, ready to fly out from beneath her ribs.

**_Rosé:_ ** _Just cheesy enough LOL_

She texts with a smile, moving to sit on the couch that’s essentially in the kitchen of her shoebox apartment. Her bare feet curl up under her, cold toes unpleasant against the warmth of her thigh.

**_denali:_ ** _so_

 **_denali:_ ** _when are you free_

 **_denali:_ ** _i believe you promised me a date_

 **_Rosé:_ ** _Um, I think you technically promised yourself a date_

 **_Rosé_ ** _: Are you busy tomorrow in the evening?_

 **_denali:_ ** _ya at like 7ish?_

 **_denali:_ ** _can we get sushi_

 **_Rosé:_ ** _Whatever you want, beautiful_

☆☆☆☆☆

“What the fuck do I _wear_?” Rosé whines to Lagoon and Jan the following afternoon, sitting in the middle of a pile of discarded potential outfits.

“Lingerie?” Jan suggests unhelpfully, rifling through Rosé’s mostly empty closet. She pulls out a pair of sheer red panties from one of the inner drawers, holding it up to Rosé. “Where did you get these? _Please_ tell me it’s a matching set...”

“My vote is still for jeans and a nice top,” Lagoona offers, “the black flared ones.”

“That’s so boring,” Rosé hangs her head with a groan. “Why is this so complicated?”

“Found it!” Jan shouts, smiling proudly as she holds up the matching bra. “This is nice!” She exclaims, holding it up to her own chest. “Almost _too_ nice--”

“--Stop trying to steal my shit!”

“It’s not _stealing_ if I give it back later!” Jan huffs, tossing the bra at Rosé. “Whatever, I agree with Goons. Black jeans and a cute top.”

“Where are you guys going again?”

“Some Japanese restaurant I think? She said she’d pick me up here to get the subway down.”

“Casual?” Lagoona checks.

“Casual.” Rosé affirms, pulling her phone from her pocket to check the time. She still had a few hours until Denali was scheduled to come by to get her.

“Oh, shit, wait, what if you did--” Lagoona stands up from her position on Rosé’s bed, jogging next door to her own room. She comes back a second later, holding up a cropped cream-coloured bustier top. It has short and slightly puffed sleeves, with a mock-corset boning design across the waist. “It’s a little small for me, so I think it’ll fit you fine.”

Jans eyes light up, “yes, that’s perfect! And then you do your makeup really cute,” she smiles broadly at Rosé, “how could she _possibly_ say no?”

“Are the jeans in there?” Rosé asks Jan, giving Lagoona a thanks when she throws the top at her. She stands up, quickly pulling her t-shirt over her head to try on the top, turning to the other girls when it’s on. “So?” She says, looking down at her chest. The shirt fits well and is low-cut enough to display the signature swoosh of her Nike sports bra.

Lagoona nods with her warm brown eyes held open wide. “Hot.”

“You look gorge,” Jan says, handing her a pair of neatly folded jeans, which Rosé slides on as she kicks her shorts off. “With a proper bra and a little jewellery?” She kisses the tips of her fingers in a poor imitation of a chef, “ _mwah!_ ”

Rosé giggles, moving to see herself in the full-length mirror she’s installed into her closet door to save space. Jan and Lagoona are right, she realises, she looks good. The top’s cut flatters her broad shoulders and displays the muscle on her abdomen she’s worked so hard for.

“Those jeans are killer Rosie,” Lagoona comments, standing behind her and balancing her chin on Rosé’s shoulder. The dark-wash hugs her hips, flaring out gently just under her knees.

“How do you have such a good ass?” Jan huffs, “it’s like a fucking peach, you cunt.”

“I’m sending a text to your mom to thank her for her blessing which is your ass.” Lagoona says with a snort.

Rosé rolls her eyes, “I’m gonna take a shower-- Lagoona Bloo stop texting my mother, I swear to God--”

“--She deserves to be thanked!”

“You’re such a freak,” Rosé says with a smile, carefully taking Lagoona’s top off and laying it flat on her bed. She does the same with her jeans, leaving the room in her underwear.

“Oh yeah, just leave us to clean your shit up,” Jan grumbles, “how very _kind_ , Rosie.”

Rosé peeks her head back around the door, letting out a giggle when Lagoona jabs Jan in the ribs with her elbow, “thank you!”

She can hear Jan’s mumble of “She better get fucked tonight, Jesus Christ.” from behind the closed door of the bathroom, shaking her head with a grin as she turns on the shower and waits for the water to heat up.

☆☆☆☆☆

“Your tits look like they’re a couple of bad dad-dancing minutes away from falling out,” Jan comments, legs folded on the lid of the toilet she’s perched herself on as she watches Rosé do her makeup through the mirror. “Yeah, when you bend forwards just like _that_ \-- shit if she doesn’t fuck you maybe _I_ will.”

Rosé snorts a laugh, putting down her eyeliner to look at Jan. “Okay first of all, bitch, I don’t dance like a dad. And second of all, you fucking wish, Janet, like you’d be able to get me.”

“Erm, not sure what that’s supposed to mean, I’m fucking gorgeous, you jealous monster.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” Rosé says, as she leans forwards to fish her mascara out of her makeup bag.

“Hmm?”

“Like,” she says, grasping the tube, “the top and the makeup, I don’t know, it just feels… like I’m trying too hard?”

“You’re crazy,” Jan says, standing up to look at Rosé over her shoulder, “you look beautiful. I mean, it’s not exactly subtle, but neither are you Rosie.”

“You _literally_ just told me my tits look like they’re falling out of this top.” She starts coating her lashes in the dark mascara.

“And when did I say it wasn’t hot? She’s gonna have a hard time keeping her hands off of you, doll.” Rosé flushes pink, turning around to look at Jan and wrapping her free arm around her waist in a hug, before turning back to the mirror to apply another generous coat.

“Uh Rosie,” Lagoona walks up to the open door of the bathroom, “what time is she picking you up?”

Rosé checks the time on her phone she’s placed on the counter, “like fifteen minutes?”

“I think she’s a little early.” Lagoona says, tipping her head towards their front door. Someone knocks softly.

“Fuck!” Rosé hisses, “I’m not ready!”

Jan flashes a million-dollar smile at her, like she’s been training for this moment. “I’ve _got_ this, doll. Let’s go say hi, ‘Goona,” her dark eyes sparkle with something Rosé prays isn’t _fuck-up-Rosé’s-date-with-the-best-looking-woman-she’s-ever-tricked-into-taking-out._

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Lagoona murmurs to her as Jan runs to open their door, closing the bathroom door as she goes over to Jan.

Rosé can hear the door being unlatched and the sound of loud greeting, Denali’s tinkling giggle at something Jan’s said to her. She finishes the rest of her makeup at record speed, giving herself a once-over in the mirror before she goes to greet Denali.

She’s left her pink hair down, blow-dried into soft curls that brush against a gold pendant sitting on her chest. Her golden-toned eyeshadow makes her hazel eyes look a lot greener than their actual colour, dubbed pond-water chic by Lagoona, and her lips are glossed in a rosy pink.

Hearing Denali’s voice on the other side of the door makes her palms sweat and her heart start to pound, head swimming in a mixture of anticipation and nerves. _And yeah okay_ , maybe her panties have a tiny damp spot on them, but that’s like, totally understandable too, right?

When she opens the door, Jan is recounting some anecdote to a laughing Denali, sitting on their sofa, looking right at home with the mismatched tchotchkes on their coffee table. Jan clocks her and grins, stopping her sentence and making Denali turn to stare at her.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Lagoona announces, standing up awkwardly. “C’mon Jannie, let the kids go have fun.”

Jan rolls her eyes but obliges when Lagoona pulls her up by her arm. “Have fun, don’t stay out too late darling--”

“--Fuck off, mom.” Rosé says, playfully rolling her eyes at Jan’s mock-outrage. “Ready?” She directs this to Denali, who stands up and nods, slinging a small shoulder bag over her arm. They say a quick bye before they leave, Rosé remembering to grab her keys lying in a bowl they keep by the door.

“You look really good,” Denali breathes out when the door is safely shut behind them. 

Rosé blushes high in her cheeks, taking a second to look at the other girl. She’s dressed casually, a pair of loose fitting jeans paired with a green halter top tied in the back with two pieces of ribbon. Rosé realises with a heavy swallow that she’s gone sans bra, nipples only just visible through the thin fabric. 

“You’re beautiful.” She says with a giggle, feeling like a sheepish teenager on her first date.

Denali flashes her a million-watt smile, dimples so deep Rosé’s sure she could swim in them. “I know,” she chuckles, and Rosé is fucked. 

☆☆☆☆☆

For someone who was so adamant about getting sushi, Denali, as it turns out, is god-awful at using chopsticks. 

On her fifth attempt of picking up a California roll, Rosé finally decides she’s had enough of watching the roll slowly fall apart with every attempt by Denali.

“I am begging you,” she starts, “just pick it up with your fingers.”

“No, no, I’ve got it!” Denali stubbornly tries again, getting it halfway to her mouth before dropping it into her bowl of soy sauce. 

Rosé gives her a look, smiling as she reaches forwards to pick up the roll with her expert touch. She gently places it back on Denali's plate, cocking an eyebrow as she sets it down. “You sure?”

When Denali looks up at Rosé through her dark lashes, Rosé feels her heart palpitate, and she’s not unconvinced she’s not having a heart attack. The blonde looks down at the sushi on the plate, flickering her eyes to look back up at Rosé, face turned down into a tiny pout.

Rosé rolls her eyes with a smile, picking it back up again and holding it against Denali’s full lips, unable to stop herself from smirking slightly when Denali’s pink tongue darts out, mouth opening to allow the roll to pass in. Her throat goes dry when she watches Denali take it from her, feeling her wooden chopsticks brushing up against the other girl’s inner cheek.

She coughs. Blinks to get the image of Denali’s wide brown eyes boring into her own hazel ones.

She’s definitely wet. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking _fuck._

They spend the rest of the evening like this; Denali unable to pick up her own food and allowing Rosé to feed it to her-- she’s not so sure how much of it is an act Denali’s putting on as a ploy to get her to feed her, but hey, she’s not exactly complaining, is she?

They talk too, Rosé tells her about her short lived off-off-off Broadway career and her desire to start making music again. Denali mentions that she’s a part-time choreographer for a couple of dance studios, but wants to be a figure skating coach more than anything. They discuss their favourite restaurants in the city-- _I’m telling you Katz’s is always the best! No, no, no, that’s for tourists, you have to go to Alidoro’s on 39th,_ \-- and Rosé can feel her heart swelling in her chest.

Denali is beautiful, that’s a given, but she’s also quick witted and whip-smart, volleying off Rosé like they’ve known each other for years; she feels like she’s laughed more tonight than she has in months. When the check comes, she insists on paying despite Denali arguing for them to split it.

“I asked you to come out with me, didn’t I?” Rosé probes with a raised eyebrow, putting her hand over the check so Denali can’t slide her card in.

“But I picked the restaurant, and then I made you feed me the whole time.” Denali tries to pout again, but Rosé isn’t biting. “C’mon, you gave me all that coffee the other week too, let me give you something.”

Rosé’s mind immediately constructs images of just what Denali could give me, her cheeks turning a little pink as she takes a deep breath. _Not here, not now_ , she reminds herself, _you’re in public, Rosie._

Before Denali can try to sway her again, their waitress comes by, thanking Rosé as she passes over her credit card to put the bill on. Denali crosses her arms over her chest and pretends to be annoyed, but laughs as soon as she catches Rosé’s eye.

“Do you wanna walk along the river after this?” She asks.

Rosé nods shyly, hands turning clammy imaging walking the length of the river side-by-side with Denali. They leave as soon as Rosé gets her card back, sliding out of their booth in the back.

Denali’s fingertips brush Rosé’s knuckles while they walk out, and Rosé takes a deep breath trying to cool her nerves before gently taking Denali’s hand in her own. She smiles ear-to-ear when Denali intertwines their fingers, playfully swinging their arms back and forth. The summer air is pleasantly cool against exposed skin-- Rosé isn’t quite sure if the shiver up her spine comes from the girl next to her or the sudden gust of wind.

They walk in comfortable silence, slowing when they near an empty bench facing the river. They sit together, still holding hands.

“Thank you,” Denali turns to Rosé, “for taking me out.” 

Rosé offers her a smile, shrugging as if to say _of course_. They sit together, looking at one-another for a second before Rosé breaks their silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mm?”

“Why did you, er, like, use a different name every time you came in? Not that I didn’t think it was cute or endearing or whatever but--”

Denali cuts her off with an embarrassed-sounding laugh. “Erm, well, the first time I came in, and you asked for my name, uh,” she looks down at her lap, the tips of her ears going slightly pink, “well, um, I sort of panicked, and then I said _some_ name, and then, well, the next day I forgot the name I used, but then in my head I thought I could pretend I did it on purpose, y’know, like, as a game, but uh…” She speaks quickly, visibly cringing at herself, ducking her head as she talks.

Rosé barks out a laugh, pulling her hand apart from Denali’s to rest it under her chin, guiding it up so she’s back at eye-level. “That is somehow the _cutest_ and _lamest_ thing I’ve ever heard,” she says with a chuckle, watching Denali squirm slightly under her touch.

Denali’s tongue slips out, wetting her lips as she lets her eyes flick over to Rosé’s, looking up to meet her gaze. She leans in a little and Rosé closes the gap between them, tentatively ghosting her mouth over Denali’s. 

Denali kisses her first, and it’s tender and sweet; no real sense of urgency between either of them. They stop occasionally, chuckling between kisses as they realise what they’re doing and feel a little self-conscious about it. Denali's skin smells sweet, like vanilla and something spicy-- Rosé finds herself trying to memorise it as they kiss.

When they break apart, both their faces are rosy, and eyes are bright. 

“Do you, um, want to come back with me?” Rosé suggests, “like, for a coffee, or tea, or, um, y’know, whatever really.”

Denali nods with a laugh, “or whatever sounds good, beautiful.”

They walk back the way they came, going underground to catch the subway back to Rosé’s apartment. She spends the ride praying that Lagoona is actually staying with Jan tonight, terrified of opening the door and finding them still sitting on the couch and loudly talking about Rosé’s love life-- which, to her, seems to be their only topic of conversation recently.

She lets out a sigh of relief when she opens the locked door to find not only an empty apartment, but a significantly cleaner apartment than the one she left earlier. She smiles to herself, setting a mental reminder to thank Lagoona-- Rosé knows Jan had no real part in the decision to make the apartment look presentable.

“So, um, coffee?” She says, filling their old-school kettle with tap water and placing it on a burner. 

“Sounds good,” Denali agrees, going to sit on their couch while Rosé deals with the drinks. She procures two mugs, putting in a spoonful of instant coffee into the bottom of each and pulling their half-empty milk carton from the fridge.

The kettle is loud when it boils, making cartoon whistling noises so Rosé knows to pour it. She carries the mugs over to where Denali is, pouring a little milk in her own, but leaving Denali’s black.

“Thank you,” Denali says softly, blowing on the surface before taking a miniature sip. Rosé is sure she’s just burnt a layer of skin off of the roof of her mouth, but if she does, Denali doesn’t let it show. Both of them set their mugs down on the table, Denali scooting slightly closer to Rosé in the process, so their knees knock together when they lean to look at one-another.

Denali makes the first move, placing a cool and decidedly un-clammy palm on the side of Rosé’s face, pulling her in so their lips connect. They kiss languidly, each drinking in the other, tongues beginning to venture into the other’s mouth. They kiss for what feels like hours, Rosé feels like she’s turning to soup, her bones and muscle and skin melting away until she is simply nothing.

When Denali quietly whines into her mouth, Rosé shifts her body, turning so she is completely facing the other girl. She wraps an arm around Denali’s waist pulling her closer until their chests are flush with one another. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Denali murmurs, tangling a hand into Rosé’s pink curls, giving a very gentle tug when Rosé sucks on her lower lip. Rosé muffles a quiet groan, pulling Denali even closer, large hand running to the gentle slope of her hip and back up to the dip of her waist and Denali quietly curses again, guiding one of her hands to place it over her chest, letting Rosé palm her breast.

Rosé kisses her harder, and when they break apart for a second, they do so panting slightly. “Can I…” Rosé trails off, fingers dancing at the ties of Denali’s shirt that she wants off so badly. 

Denali laughs, reaching behind her neck to pull the shirt’s ribbon undone, letting Rosé do the same on the one tied around her waist. The fabric falls, and Denali throws it over a shoulder onto the floor, looking up at Rosé with a dimpled smirk.

Rosé doesn’t waste time, cupping a pert breast in either hand, gently tweaking a pebbled nipple and softly massaging the exposed flesh. Her hands move back up to reach Denali’s neck, resting comfortably at the nape of her, Rosé ducking her head to place a tentative open-mouthed kiss in the valley between her breasts. She trails back up, letting Denali capture her back into another kiss, licking into the heat of Rosé mouth, expelling everything except want from her mind.

“Fuck--” Denali groans when Rosé moves away from her lips to kiss her neck with equal enthusiasm.

“--Bed?” She suggests with a grin, grabbing Denali’s hand to lead her into her bedroom. While they stand, Denali undoes her jeans, kicking them off in the space between the living room and the bedroom door, like a perverted trail of breadcrumbs, _à_ _la Hansel and Gretel_ , Rosé thinks to herself with a giggle. 

Denali is a sight to behold when she collapses onto the bed, dragging Rosé along with her. Her blonde hair halos out around her, fanning out across Rosé’s pillows. She arches her spine like a fucking acrobat, pushing her chest up into Rosé.

They kiss deeply, Rosé kneeling above her, with her hands on either side of her head, fingers splayed out and caught in her icy hair. Denali lets out a breathy whimper when Rosé reaches down, spreading her legs with a gentle touch.

Denali pulls away from her, “Off,” she demands, pushing herself up so her weight is in her hands. Her fingers trace over Rosé’s cleavage in Lagoona’s top, short nails scraping the skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Rosé obliges, carefully pulling it over her head to reveal the sheer bra Jan had pulled out earlier. 

Denali gasps quietly, hands cupping Rosé’s tits in the confines of the bra, her fingers dancing over the tops of the cups. Rosé undoes her jeans as well, shucking them onto her floor without really caring where they end up. Denali reaches behind her, undoing the band of her bra and sliding the straps down her shoulders so she can hold a heavy breast in each hand, marvelling slightly at their weight.

Rosé quietly moans, pushing herself down so she can capture Denali’s lips in a searing kiss again. Deft fingers tug at her panties, which she raises her ass to let slide off, gently opening herself so Rosé’s fingers can slip into her wetness. She moans loudly at the contact, and Rosé is more than glad that nobody’s home in the tiny apartment with paper-thin walls to hear them. 

“Fuck,” she whimpers when Rosé runs a finger up her slit.

She touches her with her hands trembling slightly, tracing nervous circles around the nub of her clit. “Like that?” She asks, slightly unsure of herself. Despite having slept with a fair number of women, thank you _very_ much, something about this feels foreign to her; Denali is different from her casual hookups, _special_ , she muses to herself briefly.

Denali lets out a soft whine, pulling Rosé close to her so their chests are flush together again. Rosé feels like her heart is beating out of her chest. “Fuck-- yes, a little harder--” Rosé obliges, “--mm… I like it _rough_ , Rosie.”

Rosé audibly _gulps_ like a mother fucking cartoon character.

This girl is going to be the fucking death of her.

Her mouth goes dry, pupils hugely dilating as her hand slides up to Denali’s breasts. She kisses her hard and deep, grinning as Denali moans when she starts trailing kisses down her sternum and onto the top of her pubic bone. She parts her legs with a quick sweep, kneeling between them to blow a gust of cool air into Denali, giggling as she squirms. 

“Fucking soaked,” she murmurs, “practically dripping for me Nali.”

Denali nods desperately trying to find some sort of friction to grind herself onto. Rosé traces a finger over her folds, watching as her hips chase her touch. Her index finger presses up to her entrance and she slips in with no resistance, watching as Denali’s walls envelope her perfectly and her brow knits together in pleasure. She gently presses her lips to her clit, flicking her tongue over it. Once, twice, thrice.

Her finger pumps inside of Denali, who is pure liquid silk around her, so wet every movement results in an obscene _squelch_. She adds another finger, Denali taking it like it’s nothing, so she carefully adds a third, scissoring them open when she loudly moans.

“Jesus,” she groans, “fucking _hell_ , right there.” 

Rosé obliges, fingers pumping into the blonde, setting a brutal pace whilst curling them _just right_ _every-single-fucking-time_. She sucks wetly at Denali’s clit, feeling the girl pulsate around her and she starts to reach her tipping point, moans turning into desperate whines in the back of her throat.

Rosé looks up at Denali through her lashes, trying hard not to grin with satisfaction when she sees Denali twisting and turning, one fist gripping the sheets beneath them like She-Hulk, the other rolling one of her rosy nipples between tan fingers.

“Fuck--” she gasps, “fucking fuck, holy shit, I’m gonna--”

Rosé feels her pulsate around her fingers as she cums, licking her through her orgasm as Denali’s back arches obscenely up off the bed, like it’s a fucking exorcism. She removes her fingers, sucking them clean when Denali pushes her away, too sensitive to do anything more than lie still for a minute.

There’s a moment of stillness between them as Rosé stares at Denali, brown eyes still scrunched tightly shut, her body limp. Rosé moves up so they lie side-by-side, lying on her side and close enough to see the sheen of sweat over Denali’s clavicle and neck. She wants to lick it off of her, but settles on laying a gentle kiss on her lips, a total one-eighty turn from the minute before.

“Jesus Christ, Rosé.” Denali mumbles against her lips, “I thought I was about to fucking _see_ Jesus Christ himself, oh my God.”

Rosé hums a laugh, kissing Denali softly, letting her taste herself on her lips. She breathes out a moan when she realises, smiling into their kiss.

“You’re so fucking hot,” she murmurs against her, running her cool fingers down Rosé’s chest, dancing her fingertips on the band of her underwear.

Rosé thrusts her hips forwards in encouragement, sighing in relief when Denali’s fingers find her clit, toying with it gently. She’s turned-on enough that she cums embarrassingly quickly, letting herself be gently kissed through it, smiling as Denali coaxes an orgasm out of her. Rosé groans into Denali’s mouth as she does, Denali swallowing their sound up with a giggle.

It’s all so intimate and soft, it makes Rosé’s heart pang a little. This is so unlike her; the pining; the kisses between orgasms; the moments of quiet; she’s used to quick hook-ups and sloppy make-outs, not beautiful blondes who kiss her like it’s their fucking job.

When it’s all over, they lay together, Rosé’s head resting heavy on Denali’s chest. She falls asleep first, Rosé breathes deeply, closing her eyes and letting the sound of her heart guide her into her own sleep.

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please please please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed this fic half as much as i enjoyed writing it LOL <3 all the wonderful support means the world xx
> 
> come chat w me on tumblr !! @ mattelography i'm very nice i promise !!
> 
> stay safe lovelies x


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